Her body still not void of a soul,her fresh corpse dancedto the tune of the undercurrent in that abyss beneath. Beneath the veiling surface which the living cannot see through.Sorrows of the deep, even withina living, breathing corpse, drown in agony...

The carriage sped on for hours, as if they were in some race against time. By the time the orange of dusk  painted Hilda's face in a carroty hue,   the carriage again came to a sudden stop. Hearing the driver descend from his box,  he...